15 ☤ re-training

                                    

                                          
Edited: 22/01/22 

                          
Knowing Blair could fighting — knowing she was trained just like he was — was an advantage. Finally punching bags weren't his only way to train. 
                          
Standing in the boxing ring with Blair was like combining two different life's. Everything he was was what she had seen. Matt was no longer as mysterious as he wanted to keep himself, instead he was human. Matt had a heart, a heart she now saw daily. 
                          
But just because she had seen him vulnerable, didn't mean she could see him at full strength. Sure, Blair (and apparently one of her friends) had been trained by Stick, but he didn't know if it was to the same extent. She had family ties to the man, being his adopted granddaughter, whilst he was a stranger Stick had plucked from the system. 
                          
Blair combined ballet with her fight. Fighting was just like dance, a delicate sport that could hurt her — only to different extents and different ways. Balance was needed in both. An understanding of body movements and body parts and their weakness was good in both. 
                          
She knew what she could take. She knew how to balance her whole wait on her toes with a pretty smile and ignorance to any pain that may occur. She knew how to seem dainty and delicate when she was strong. Blair knew how to alter someone's perspective, and that was something that always saved her. 
                          
So when her back hit the floor, Blair wrapped her legs around the back of his and turned them over. Her hands holding his chest down. Panting after battling back and forth for at least an hour. 
                          
She was not a pretty sight. Messy hair, thin line of sweat on her forehead. 
                          
"Not bad for twelve years out of practice." She laughed lightly. As she went to get off him, Matt grabbed her waist, stopping her from moving before rolling them over. 
                          
Blair to the floor, Matt hovering over her. "Did you know you go on your toes a lot?"
                          
"I walk on the balls of my feet. I dance on my toes." The woman shrugged, flipping them over. "Did you know you go for the throat every time we've kissed." Blair pointed out, a brow cocked. 
                          
"Like this?" He questioned, bring his hand to her throat. He gripped it, bring her head down to his. "Is this what you mean, princess?" 
                          
Blair's lips met his greedily, her hands on his shoulders to support her weight. Matt's hand stayed at her throat, his other one exploring the skin under her tank top. 

                          
 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                          
The night time never got the chance to be good in Blair's life. First it started with excessive training, then it was hearing her mother get abused in the room next door, then it became the time she most worried for Matt. 
                          
Blair laid on the man's bed, replying to emails on her phone and deleting spam mail. It was a lengthy process that bored her half to death. But she couldn't sleep — she just couldn't. There was no escape from the nighttime, and sleep her saviour.
                          
Blair moved her laptop from slightly far to next to her head. She logged in before calling Cassie on it. 
                          
"Should I be prepared for another disappearing act?"
                          
"Do you remember Stick?" 
                          
Cassie blinked, sending the side of her best friend's face a strange look. "Do I remember the man that messed us up? The man that first abused your mum? The man that trained us for some fucking war? The man that worked us until we were sick?"
                          
"Yeah, he wasn't that bad."
                          
"Just because he did one good thing in his life, doesn't mean he's an angel. He's a soci— psychopath. Completely and utterly insane. Why you asking? Is he dead? I promise it wasn't me!" 
                          
Blair's brows furrowed, she looked at the computer, finding her friend topless and just in a bra. "I think he's alive. Where your clothes?"
                          
"I was about to get laid, but you called. Thank you, you're a life saver, gave me an excuse to kick him out." 
                          
"You kick people out all the time, why'd you struggle?" Blair asked, turning on her side, her arm under her head as she watched Cassie. Her phone disregarded next to her laptop. 
                          
Cassie looked down at her hands. "He . . . I . . . He's scary, B. Like fully. Could just tell no was not an option, I didn't want to find out what happens if I say no. I know I'm the stoic one but sometimes I'm not strong. Sometimes I think I'm the weakest." 
                          
Blair sighed, giving her a sad smile. "Well, I'm glad I called." She stated. 
                          
"I didn't want to be like mum. Either of our mums." 
                          
"Neither do, Cass. Neither do I." 
                          
"I don't want to be a statistic. It's bad enough people looked at as a criminal because I'm Arab. I don't want to be looked at as weak as well." 
                          
Blair hummed, watching her best friend. 
                          
"I should put a jumper on, I'm cold." Cassie declared, grabbing a sweatshirt of the floor before pulling it on. "What's on your neck, missy."
                          
Blair rolled her eyes. "Forgot we were twelve."
                          
"You're so going to get killed at dance." 
                          
"I have make up." Blair muttered, seeing her fathers name pop up on her phone with a pathetic apologetic text. She ignored it, deciding Cassie was more worthy of her time. 

                          
 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                          
When Matt came back to his home, Blair was practically asleep. He pulled the duvet over her before changing and making his way to the sofa. 
                          
Blair got out of the bed, approaching the man before he could get to the sofa. "Stay with me?" She asked, her words slurred together, her eyes barely open. 
                          
Matt took her hand. "Let's get you to bed, mi amor." He told her, guiding the ballerina to his bed. He climbed in when she tugged on his wrist. The ballerina latched onto him, falling asleep in his arms as he ran his fingers through with her hair.